I started dancing again this week.

 

Not just bopping around to my playlist, actually dancing. Not that it’s not dancing if you’re moving around to your music, it’s just that I mean something else. See, I was a dancer in my younger years. Let me tell you the story…

 

 

When I started high school, I was fortunate enough to attend a public high school that had an incredible arts program that included dance. Up until ninth grade, I had done so many different activities: violin, piano, voice, tennis, ballet, gymnastics. They were great activities, and became fairly proficient in many of them, but I didn’t really want to pursue any of them toward mastery. They just weren’t that magical for me.  I signed up for modern dance with an amazing teacher named Lynn Modell, and it was as though the lights came on. I’d been overweight and was experiencing that very common body shame that so many young women feel as they go through puberty. I didn’t like team sports, I didn’t enjoy exercise, and I hated to sweat. But when I was dancing, all of that disappeared.

 

 

I added dance classes in the city and kept dancing with Ms Modell. I wanted to keep dancing, so when I went to Hampton University, I auditioned for the Tersichorean Dance Company as a freshman. I don’t remember how many others auditioned, but out of at least 50, four of us were chosen that year. I spent the next four years choreographing and dancing, performing and touring with The Terps. When I left Hampton for medical school, I looked for a place in Durham where I could squeeze in a dance class or two between all the studying, but I couldn’t find anything. That first year at Duke was one of the hardest years of my life. It may have been the closest I’ve ever been to a true clinical depression. I’m pretty sure losing my dancing contributed to how alone and disconnected I felt.

 

 

Decades later, I still miss dance. Not that I never move around – my husband and I like to dance together and we have family dance parties with the kids (we’re trying to teach them rhythm!). But that expression, the creativity, the practice of moving in a specific way to music that means something – I still feel a void without it. Well, why don’t I just go take a class? Living in the ‘burbs means there are dance studios, but they are set up to take a semester’s worth of classes on a specific day. When I lived in Boston, I’d buy a card from the studio and take a class whenever I wanted and could. Maybe there are studios in the city here that have that option, but I’m not free enough to get into the city, especially with all the travel time.

 

So this week, that little voice in me asked to dance again. You know the voice? The one you can hear if you get still and pay careful attention? So instead of yoga or my morning walk, I turned on some music, shut the door, and started moving to the beat. And then a song came on that I’ve been listening to over and over. It’s one of those songs that speaks to me. And something in my creative heart moved. Instead of bopping around, the dance started to become something formed. I could feel my feet and my spine in a way I hadn’t in years. The harmonies in the music and the movement of my muscles started to connect.

 

 

And then I had to go to work.

 

But that’s not the end of the story. It didn’t go away – the need to make something with this music stayed long after I left the dance. I kept thinking about the song and the movement. It was like a seed that had been lying dormant and now finally sprouted. I’m going to choreograph to this song, and I’m going to dance it, if for no one but myself. I need to. Dance was a passion in my life, and you can’t just leave passion behind. You can subdue it, you can ignore it, but it doesn’t just go away. There’s a lot of talk in popular culture these days about finding your passion and making it your vocation. Get paid for what you love doing – what could be better? But what if you aren’t getting paid for it? Monetizing your passion isn’t the only way to live it. Get paid doing what you love if you can, but practicing your passion in your life is a way to feed your soul even if you can’t do it full time. I don’t really want to be a professional dancer, but I need dance in my life. There may be ways to use it beyond my basement great room – but if not, I still will do it. Just for me.

 

What does the little voice in you want you to do more? Have you been getting still and listening to it? What do you want to do that feeds your soul? Please share in the comment below!

 

 

And for those of you who’ve been waiting, Tea Talk: Food As Medicine Part 3 is coming up! We will be getting together on March 10th to talk about Extreme Eating. I’m going to explain some of the most common current eating trends, like Paleo, Ketogenic, cleanses and fasts. Do they work? Are they healthy? Should you try them? Go to this link to reserve your spot and let’s get your questions answered!